


all is calm, all is bright

by drowninginmyworries



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Holiday Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28500582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowninginmyworries/pseuds/drowninginmyworries
Summary: Jake and Amy share their first Christmas morning together after the events of Yippie Kayak.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55
Collections: B99 Discord Secret Santa Event 2020





	all is calm, all is bright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [feeisamarshmallow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeisamarshmallow/gifts).



> This is for the wonderful Feeisamarshmallow! You are the sweetest and the kindest, and I hope your holidays treated you wonderfully.

_December 25th, 2015, 7:28 AM_

It’s quiet.

Not the dreadful kind of quiet though, Amy notes.

The silence is peaceful and still, wrapping around her like her favorite blanket on a cold day. It’s comforting and cozy, especially after the chaos of last night.

Content to revel in the quiet serenity of the early morning, she burrows back into the warmth of the cushions and comforter, scooting towards her left side and trying to press into Jake’s body.

She frowns when she doesn’t find him though, reaching out beside her to find only cold, empty sheets.

Before she can blink open her heavy eyes, she feels a slight pressure on her face - first on her cheek, then her chin, then her nose.

Suppressing a smile, she turns away dramatically, burrowing further into the warmth of the pillows and blankets.

“No,” she groans. “Let me sleep. Since when are you the one so eager to get out of bed?”

Jake rips the comforter off her with a hearty laugh, and she yelps a little from the loss of heat, sitting up quickly and jumping forward to try and take it. She doesn’t reach it in time, and Jake holds it above his head with an enormous grin, leaving Amy in a cold, disgruntled state at the end of the bed.

“Come on, Ames,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “It’s Christmas morning!”

“It’s not even 7:30!” Amy protests. “We were up late last night in a crisis situation. And you _love_ sleeping in. Are you sure those Canadian terrorists didn’t slip you something?”

She smirks at him, giggling a little at the affronted look on his face.

“Yes, we were in peril, but come on! It’s Christmas! Time to open presents!”

He grabs her by the arm and tugs her out of bed to her feet before promptly pressing a hot mug of coffee into her hands that he seemingly pulled from nowhere.

“When did you have time to make coffee?”

“Oh Amy,” he says, his voice theatrical. “Three-hundred-sixty-four days out of the year, I am like any other sane person and enjoy sleeping in. On that one day though, I’m the chirpiest morning person you’ll ever know. That day is today.”

“No kidding,” she says, still blinking the sleep from her eyes and taking a sip of coffee.

She barely has time to savor it before he’s pulling her into the living room, her Christmas tree already all lit up. As the caffeine starts to take effect, she lets out a quiet laugh. She should’ve known Jake would still be acting like a child and counting down the seconds until Christmas morning.

Briefly, she wishes she still held some amount of childlike wonder for holidays. Since entering adulthood, Christmas had started to feel like something more dreadful than cheerful. She’s always been so, so pressured to find the _perfect_ gift for every single family member, one that demonstrated her _thoughtfulness_ and _dedication_ and _love_.

If she didn’t get it exactly right every single time, her family, and especially her own _mother_ , were always the first to let her know.

Right now though, it’s hard to feel anything but happy as Jake swipes something quickly from underneath the tree and presents it to her with a wide grin.

“For you, m’ lady,” he says with an exaggerated English accent, holding out a stocking with a flourish.

She smiles back at him, setting her coffee down to take it.

“Aw, thank you, babe,” she says, taking the stocking and peering inside at its contents. It’s mostly sweets - typical Jake - but there are also some cute fluffy socks she’s already _dying_ to put on and a gift card to her favorite stationary store, which makes her squeal.

When she looks back up at him he’s beaming. His hair is tousled, and his eyes are bright. He’s the perfect picture of carefree joy.

She can’t believe she almost never saw his face again.

Amy reaches for his hand and tugs him sharply forward, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers, a little surprised at how rough her voice is.

Jake kisses the top of her head, then she feels him grin.

“That’s only part one! Rookie stuff compared to the real thing.”

He pulls back, practically vibrating in excitement.

Jake’s always been a gift giver. Even before they were dating, he would always get her little things unprompted. A cup of coffee from that cafe that he passes by on the way to work every day. A granola bar from the vending machine whenever he makes a trip for his own candy. Stress balls for her to squeeze after a long, frustrating day.

Looking back on it now, she feels a little silly for not recognizing what a gem he is earlier than she did. All of the pieces were already there, hiding behind his gigantic, mostly-for-show ego.

She tiptoes to peck him on the lips, then pulls back and gives him a lazy smile.

“Let me give me you yours first.”

His whole face lights up even more, and she laughs at his palpable joy.

“Come on. Sit down and I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s not under the tree?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“No,” she admits, “I didn’t have time to put it under the tree last night considering how _busy_ we were after coming back home.”

Somehow, his smile widens, his eyes twinkling as he surely thinks of the life-affirming _I’m-so-relieved-you’re-still-alive_ sex that occurred the night before when she’d refused to let go of him after they walked through the door.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” he shoots back, and she wonders how he can be so lax after such a stressful experience.

Last night was among the scariest of her life, and normally just thinking about losing him like that would be enough to bring her back to the fear she felt as she stood outside the store, unsure if he’d come out again.

Amy will revisit those emotions again. The experience isn’t just something she could push down and repress, but right now it’s hard to feel anything but peace in the presence of his childlike joy and infectious smile.

She ducks into her bedroom closet and reaches into the corner to retrieve his well-concealed gift. It’s a sizable gift basket, and she’s quite proud of it.

It’s a deep chestnut color wrapped in clear plastic wrapping, tied together at the top with blue and gold ribbons that she spent far too much time cutting precisely since he’s just going to tear it apart, anyway.

She’s put a lot of his favorite things in it, toys for his desk, tons of sweets, gift cards to his favorite places, a new case for his phone since his old one broke, a brand new silk tie he’d normally never buy on his own, and to tie it all together, a photo collage of their relationship so far. 

She’d put a lot of time, effort, and resources into it. Probably more than others might deem appropriate considering neither of them had even dropped the L-bomb yet, but putting a restriction on his gift based on arbitrary relationship rules just felt _wrong_.

The rest of their relationship had yet to play by the rules. Why should something that’s supposed to be as heartfelt as a Christmas gift be different?

Careful not to knock any of the ribbons out of place, she lifts it into her arms and walks out into the living room, her stomach doing a little flip as his face lights up. He jumps up off the couch as if he’s on springs, making her laugh.

“This is all for me?” he asks as she places it in hisoutstretched arms, pleased as his smile widens as he takes in its contents.

“This is so much!” he continues, sounding a little awed as he rotates it and inspects all the objects inside.

Then, he sets it down gently, taking apart the ribbons far more carefully than she anticipated and freeing the basket from the wrapping. He picks up its contents almost tenderly, turning them over and inspecting them with a bright, happy grin. He immediately messes up a Rubik’s cube and opens an action figure before taking the time to really look at the rest of the basket’s contents.

After he takes everything in, he finds his feet and pulls her in for a tight hug, even lifting her up a little bit and laughing when she lets out a surprised yelp.

When she pulls back, the look on his face is so soft and appreciative that she might melt. His eyes shine, and his miles-wide grin is now smaller and more subdued, but no less joyful.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, his fingers rubbing the skin at her hip where her pajama shirt - _his_ shirt - rides up.

His reaction makes her go all warm and fuzzy inside, and she leans back in to hug him again, taking a second to rest her head on his chest and just hold onto him for a second, savoring the peace.

She doesn’t have long though, because he pulls back and then bounces on the balls of his feet.

“Are you ready for your gift?” he asks excitedly.

He seems almost more excited to be giving _her_ a gift than receiving one himself, a first for him for sure, she thinks.

She can’t help it - her eyes flit to the space under the tree, and there’s nothing new there from him.

“Oh, it’s not under the tree,” Jake says, following her gaze. “It’s in the office!”

Amy quirks an eyebrow, confused. Why would it be there?

Before she gets a chance to ask, Jake’s jovially dragging her down the hall, stopping once they’re outside the door.

“What did you -”

“Bup, bup,” he interrupts, miming zipping his lips shut. “Shhh. It’s a surprise. Now close your eyes.”

She tries to object, but Jake decides to take matters into his own hands, spinning her to her side so she’s facing the door with him behind her, clasping his hands over her eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” she asks, but she smiles anyway.

“Yes,” he answers seriously. “It’s for dramatic effect.”

She feels him reach over her shoulder to push the door open before he nudges her forward slightly. He takes her to the center of the room before spinning her around and around in place, and even though she’s a little dizzy she’s giggling, reaching out to try and steady herself.

“What are you even doing?” she asks through her poorly-contained laughter as he finally stops her, feeling a quick kiss against her temple.

“I have to make sure you lose your sense of direction. The direction you face for it could ruin the surprise before you open your eyes.”

He says it so seriously that it makes her laugh again, and when he hugs her from behind again she can feel the curve of his smile against her ear.

“You’re sure building this up a lot,” she says as he turns her to her right.

“Because it’s great and you’ll love it.” He pauses, then in a quieter tone adds, “I hope,” but she’s not sure she’s meant to hear it.

Before she can tell him she _will_ love anything he gets her, especially something he’s so excited over, he cuts her off.

“All right. I’m going to uncover your eyes. Are you ready?”

She nods quickly, and he pulls his hands back.

It takes her a moment to push through the initial dizzy spell and focus in on what’s in front of her, but once she does she actually gasps a little.

It’s a brand new chair, tucked into her reading corner between her bookshelf and her lamp. It’s not just _any_ chair though. This one has to be the warmest, coziest chair she’s ever seen in her life. It’s light beige and made out of a material that looks so soft she wants to sink into it and never get up. A black afghan is thrown over the back while a novelty pillow that reads, _I’m fully booked_ is perched against the seat.

She’s instantly in love with it. She had an old leather chair here before that had gotten so worn and battered since she got it right after graduating from the academy. She never got around to replacing it though, so this is _perfect._ It’s sweet and thoughtful and surprisingly mature. The material looks like it’s high quality, so it couldn’t have been cheap. He must’ve been saving up for at least several weeks, and the thought of him doing something so premeditated for her makes her heart warm.

Without giving him a chance to say anything, she dives for the chair, stretching into it as she grabs the afghan and throws it over her body before relaxing with a long, contented sigh.

“Do you like it?” Jake asks, all the haughty confidence that was present in his voice earlier gone. He just sounds hopeful now, his mouth curved up into a soft grin.

“I love it. But I think I’d love it more if you were in it with me too.”

He chuckles. “I don’t think I fit.”

“Oh, you’ll fit,” Amy says, beckoning him forward with one finger.

He laughs, approaching and squeezing into the seat beside her. It’s a tight fit a first, but she maneuvers herself to where she’s mostly in his lap with her head in the crook of his neck, and that’s much better - for practicality _and_ hugability.

She expects him to start cracking jokes or brag about what a great gift he got her, because he _seriously_ nailed it, but he just lets out a breath and squeezes her.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, sleep creeping back into his voice.

“Merry Christmas.” She pauses. “To many more.”

He doesn’t stiffen or get awkward. Instead, he smiles and presses a kiss to her cheek, his thumb rubbing her elbow.

“To many more,” he repeats, practically glowing.

The words make her immeasurably happy.

She loves him. She’s known for a period of time already, and while she’s practically bursting at the seams from wanting to tell him, she knows the time isn’t right.

While Amy worries about a lot of things, this isn’t one of them. They’ve reached an understanding about it in gazes that stretch just a little longer, kisses that press just a little harder, and hugs that are just a little tighter.

They’re happy, safe, and in love with many more Christmases ahead of them, so there’s no room for anything but joy in her heart.

Even though she just had coffee, she feels her eyes drooping as she begins to drift off right there in his arms, his fingers mindlessly combing through her hair.

“You want to go back to bed?” he asks, his voice a whisper.

“No,” she says. “Let’s stay right here.”

They stay.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost put a Rent reference at the end. Almost.
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing vernonfielding/fielding.


End file.
